Page 113 of Sweet Like Whiskey

Now, I think my brother might be a lot braver than I ever gave him credit for.

“If there’s anything we can do,” I tell him, “just give the word.”

Lawson nods, but we all go still when the sound of a motorcycle cuts through the night.

Colton sets his roasting stick down slowly. “Is that…”

The engine roars louder until the sound ceases entirely. There’s the thump of boots on gravel, and then a man comes striding around my house. The dark obscures his features, but I still recognize him instantly. As does Colton, who jumps to his feet.

“Colton,” the man barks.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Colton snarls back.

Noah King doesn’t stop moving until he’s within the circle of our bonfire. His scowling face is lit by the flames, his head shaved short along the sides, the dark hair on top a mess. “You fucking kidding me?” he growls. “You told Marie Doherty my work was shoddy. She dropped me as a client. Thirty fucking horses on that farm, Colt.”

I cringe, even as Colton puffs up his chest. “You can’t prove anything.”

Noah takes a step closer, shaking his head. “I’ve never, notonce, told someone you did shoddy work,” he says, prodding Colton in the chest once, twice. “That was low.”

My brother bats Noah’s hand away. “Sure have hinted at it plenty, though, haven’t you? Every other week, it’s in the paper.Kingthis andKingthat. Best goddamn farrier in these parts!”

“It’s called advertising,” Noah shoots back. “What you did is downright dirty.”

“Maybe Marie just knew if she wanted quality work, she should go with someone trusted,” Colton says, crossing his arms.

Noah works his jaw. “Right. ’Cause Colton goddamn Darling can do no wrong.”

“You said it, not me,” Colton responds.

Noah shakes his head again. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? Stop fucking with my business.”

“Stop fucking with mine!” Colton shouts after him. Noah is already halfway across the yard.

“Whoa,” Ash whispers, turning his head my way. “That’sNoah King? Dude’s hot.”

“Hey,” I grunt, tightening my arm around him.

He laughs. “What? He is.”

“He’s an asshole,” Colton puts in, dropping back into his seat.

“How’d he know where you live?” Remi mumbles.

“He thinks he’ssohigh and mighty,” Colton goes on. “Well, one of these days, he’s gonna fall off his damn perch. Just you wait and see.”

“Colt,” I say softly. “Did you really tell Mrs. Doherty he does bad work?”

He winces. “Not on purpose. And not in those words, not exactly. I just…” He groans, falling back in his chair. “I was flapping my mouth. It was an accident.”

“You need to make it right,” Remi says. “Apologize to him. Talk to Mrs. Doherty.”

“I can’t do that,” Colton moans. “I’d never live it down.”

“Well, maybe you deserve to deal with the consequences of your actions,” Lawson says in that calm teacher voice of his.“Your happiness shouldn’t come at somebody’s else’s expense, Colt.”

“I’m nothappyabout it,” Colton defends.

Lawson doesn’t argue with him. He just stands, setting down his tin. “I’m turning in.”

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